


The Enigma of Butch Flowers

by CaptainDynamic



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, M/M, Project Freelancer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 03:08:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3553799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainDynamic/pseuds/CaptainDynamic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reginald knows the tells of every single dancer, bartender, and server on staff. If he sees David frowning even slightly, or Church’s eyebrow twitch, he can immediately move to escort the customer out. He’s known for doing it with a cheery tone and a firm grip. </p><p>And the thing about Reggie is that he never forgets a face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Enigma of Butch Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to the Meme Stream for discussing a Freelancer Stripper AU and turning me into complete trash. This one's for you lot.

When anyone thinks about the club, it’s a given that Reggie is there, in the peripheral of thought. He’s been security since anyone can remember. On any given night, he’s standing by the wall with his arms crossed, watching and waiting.

Reginald knows the tells of every single dancer, bartender, and server on staff. If he sees David frowning even slightly, or Church’s eyebrow twitch, he can immediately move to escort the customer out. He’s known for doing it with a cheery tone and a firm grip. And the thing about Reggie is that he never forgets a face.

It’s pretty easy to forget he’s there, truth be told. On a regular business night, with the music thumping and the bright stage lights casting the exterior in shadow, the moustached man barely registers to most people. He typically appears to have a bored expression on his face, as if he’s zoned out and thinking of anything other than his job, but his eyes are constantly scanning.

The club is a nice place. It’s kept clean, the dancers have a fixed schedule, and it runs very smoothly. People seem to relax when surrounded with the grey walls and the soft lighting near the bar. The atmosphere doesn’t come off the same as other clubs. It feels less dirty than other clubs, for sure. There’s an organization to it all that makes it an appealing place to work for many. A lot of the staff hang out frequently and are good friends, too, so that’s a bonus. He joins them every so often.  
  
When it comes to the winter, Reggie can’t really complain. Layering clothes comes naturally to him, and nothing wakes him up better than a crisp wind turning his face the lightest shade of pink. The wind and chill are refreshing, and he’s one of the few adults he knows who sincerely enjoys having snow on the ground throughout the whole season.  
Reggie rather liked the nights where he helped open. Four out of six nights he closed, and it was pretty nice to sweep just dust and not alcohol and glass. Instead of music continuing to play through his head, he had the solace of his thoughts. Mondays and Thursdays were the best.

~

Reginald was the first one there that Thursday. He did his obligatory cleaning, then went to the records/storage office and made himself comfortable in the chair. The club didn’t open for another half-hour; he might as well get some rest.

His eyes opened, and he looked around. He was sore, he was in the office, and he was awake. Why-

Someone knocked twice on the door.

Reggie instinctively grinned, and called out, “Who’s there?”

“It’s Tex,” a voice called through the door.

“It’s Tex who?” Reggie moved to open the door.

“Cut the shit, Wyoming, you need to teach the new guy the ropes.”

Reginald opened the door, looking at the woman. “Allison, dear, I’m not on the clock yet. And I know you are horribly busy, but I’m sure you will recall that I am not a performer… though, I will choose to take that as a compliment.”

“Wyoming,” her tone was serious, a contrast to his unfaltering amusement. “I just mean the layout and the process as far as you’re involved. He’ll be here in about ten minutes.” She left before he had time to throw in another facetious comment.

Reggie sighed. Despite the fact that the few times he actually went out socially, he went with people from work, he still didn’t know how he felt about his group-decided state name. Mostly, he wasn’t from the states, and that’s what made it feel weird. He used to be a lone wolf, but when he met the Dakota twins, they didn’t accept anything other than friendship.

Sometimes he thought… well, he tried not to think about alternative paths his life could’ve taken. He wasn’t unhappy where he was, and he was firmly sure of that.

Reggie looked up when he saw someone in the hallway. He wished that it could have been one of those time-slows-down moments, because the man who always had a joke was silent.

The man had long, dark hair, but Reggie was looking directly at his eyes. They were so very… alive, in a way he’d never seen before. It was like he had an inside joke he was laughing at. That was Reggie’s job. This would at least be interesting, if nothing else.

He spoke with the most chipper voice Reginald had ever heard, and certainly not what he had expected. “Knock, knock!”

The two words brought suspicion, but he couldn’t even think before he blurted out, “Who’s there?”

The other guy leaned against the doorframe, and the corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly. “Butcher.”

“Butcher who?”

“Butch-…yer waiting for me. Butch Flowers, or rather, Florida… as of yesterday.” He stepped forward and offered a hand.

Reggie didn’t notice that he was grinning. He accepted the handshake, noting that the smaller man still had a firm grip. “Reg-“ he sighed, “Wyoming, but it’s Reginald.”

They let go of the hands, and Reggie was aware that they probably shook hands longer than is customary.

Butch’s head tilted to the side just a little bit. “Well, Reginald, I am pleased as peaches to meet you!” His voice was very chipper, but somehow it didn’t at all get on any of Reggie’s nerves. “And Wyoming is a wonderful state to be named after!”

“Oh, it is, is it?” he challenged.

“Abso-freaking-lutely, silly!” Florida’s eyes were just as bright as they were before, and Reggie found it simply delightful. Florida was like a riddle, and Reggie really wanted to solve him.

Reggie tried his best not to show the smile that naturally wanted to come to him. “Well, I suppose I’ll have to take your word for it, then, mate.”

“Guess so,” Florida cocked his head to the side again for a second. He wasn’t doing anything to hide his own grin.

It seemed for a few moments so perfectly natural to stand there in silence. They didn’t need to size each other up, because it felt like they had all the time in the fucking world to figure out the enigma of the other.

But, that wasn’t entirely true. Wyoming realized this, and cleared his throat. “Well, chap, I suppose we should get started, then. I suppose Texas is handling your other training, so I’ll go over the basics. I’m sure she has hired you because she believes you will be able to… handle it.”

Wyoming had directed this conversation before, and it was a little exhausting, especially for new dancers. Even ones with confidence to start, they encounter their first seedy customer, and then he gets to have the talk all over again. Why Texas couldn’t do this herself, or get North or someone else to do it, Wyoming had no idea.

“Right, yes. Well,” Wyoming cleared his throat once more. This guy didn’t need babying, so he couldn’t really justify why he felt cautious. “When a customer makes you feel… uncomfortable, just give me or someone else from security a look, and we’ll take care of it. Assuming you stay here long enough, I’ll learn how to read you and take care of it faster. Any questions?”

“I have tons of questions, but none about what you just said. Don’t worry about me, Reginald.” He pronounced his words in a clear way that Wyoming appreciated. “This is not my first rodeo.” Butch was still calmly smiling like he just remembered a joke.

“Ah, yes. I see. Excellent.” Reginald was not quite sure what else to say, an experience he wasn’t too familiar with. “So, new in town, are you?”

“Indeed, I am!” Florida looked very relaxed. “I’ve been living on the road for the past three years. I figured the time had come to stay still for a bit, and here I am.”

The thought of the man in front of him driving down the motorway seemed nice. For some reason, Reginald liked that thought. It seemed natural. He could imagine the window down, sunglasses reflecting some brilliant sunset, and some sort of song about freedom and love playing a little too loud. Yes, Reggie liked the mental image.

Before the Englishman could respond, however, David showed up in the doorway. “Oh, hey, Florida? Tex wants you.” Wyoming nodded in place of saying any kind of farewell, ignoring the strange look Washington appeared to be giving him.

~

Work started out normal for Wyoming after that. When they started charging cover price, he was at the door for a bit, collecting the fee and giving change. Maine was carding inside. At 11PM, South came out and relieved Wyoming of door duty. Sometimes he stayed to watch people try to give her shit or get past her. She was great at laying down the law, so to speak.

Reginald took up his spot in one of the shadows and leaned against the wall. He might as well make himself comfortable. It wasn’t like there were people he needed to kick out this early or very often. He did what he usually did, get lost in his thoughts and watch.

Sharp perception is something Reggie was proud of having. He could be extremely focused on the room around him while letting his mind wander. It was brilliant.

Most nights, Reggie tried to avoid philosophical thoughts. He never had liked thinking about his place in the universe or other such nonsense. He was perfectly content just living his life. His friendships meant more to him than he ever showed, but he felt there was an understanding there. Most importantly, he was far away from everything he wanted to forget.

Though he was proud of his country and enjoyed making fun of the ridiculous words his friends in the states said, there were a lot of things he didn’t talk about. He never talked about his personal experience when defending the country. Instead he would mention tea and a full English breakfast, or how the parliamentary system was so much better than the American government system. Reginald had a fondness for the idea of his country, but his own experience growing up there wasn’t something he liked to dwell on. He was pleased he was as far away from it as he was.

It gave him an appreciation for the smaller things. He chose to look at everything with a light-hearted filter and laugh at the world around him. If he didn’t take anything serious, then he need not worry about it coming back to bite him in the arse. It wasn’t a defence mechanism, because he treated absolutely everything with a dash of humour. It was just part of his charm, or that’s what he told his friends, anyway.

Since he didn’t ponder life’s great mysterious or dwell on his past, Reggie spent a lot of his nights thinking about jokes. It was the reason why anyone who happened to notice him would see a distant smile. He thought of the ways he could best bother his friends as well as the future. That, and he thought of the city’s layout. He liked knowing where he was at all times, and if David mentioned they wanted to go to brunch at a restaurant, Reggie would nod, then figure out where it was in his mental map of the city. It was relaxing.

On this particular night, however, his thoughts went in an entirely different direction. In his scans of the inside of the club, he let his eyes fall to the dancer who was entering the stage, surprised to see the new lad. Normally David came on at this time. The people he needed to assist with locating the exit usually got creepy when he was out, poor kid. Reggie felt bad for the blonde. He still laughed at about half of Reggie’s jokes.

Butch, as Reggie remembered his name, was dressed in blue and black. His tan skin went well with the colours, and Reginald didn’t even realize that he wasn’t doing the usual scans of the club. He didn’t recognize the fact that his eyes were fixed on the dancer, nor did he understand the pressure on his abdomen. He uncrossed his arms, but that didn’t seem to help. Reggie noticed that the man was a lot leaner than he’d realized.

Flowers had excellent control over his body, and on his face was what can only be described as a smug grin. He seemed to know the effect he was having. Reggie distantly recalled being told it wasn’t his ‘first rodeo’ and he knew that was true in this moment. The way he moved was damn near hypnotizing.

Reginald didn’t focus on the fact that North or Wash doing the same moves had zero impact on him in the past, because it looked like Florida was taking full claim over the moves, making them his own. It was as if no one else could do them justice, and Reggie’s moustache very nearly hid the small smile that grew on his face.

He truly had no idea how long it had been since Florida had taken the stage. Time seemed infinite and frozen all at once, in that time didn’t seem to exist for Reggie at that time.  
Reggie was snapped out of it by a loud laughter directly next to him, which made him jump. The knowledge that people never snuck up on him was somewhere in the back of his mind, and he looked over to see South laughing with her head thrown back and everything.

“Er-may I help you, South?”

“Oh, man, you’ve helped enough,” she managed to let her laughter die down.

Reggie stared at her, an eyebrow rising in question.

“I can’t wait to tell York, he’s gonna lose his mind,” she sounded giddy, and ignored Reggie’s silent stare. She, instead, walked to the other side of him where the bar entrance was and picked up a wet rag from the swivel-door. She took aim and hit York directly in the back of the head with it.

“South-"

“Shhh,” she cut him off.

In his growing annoyance, Reggie looked away from her and at the people in the club. He scanned, looking for signs of trouble. The music was just loud enough to drown out any comments that could tip him off. That’s why sometimes he delivered drinks from the bar, so he could get close enough to listen.

His eyes easily found the new dancer again easily, readjusting to looking at what the lights illuminated rather than looking through the shadows. He saw Florida look directly at him, their eyes meeting for what had to be longer than a few seconds, surely.

Reggie just barely focused enough to hear South say, “Wyoming’s got a thing for the new guy, check it out.”

It took a second before he looked away from the man with long hair. “What? Ridiculous. Don’t you have IDs to be checking?” He spoke a little faster than normal, which made South and York laugh even more. “It’s my job to watch everyone and wait for trouble,” he reminded them.

He heard York’s smug voice, “It’s your job to eye fuck the new guy?”

“I wasn’t-” Wyoming began to argue, but was cut off.

“Tone down your boner, Wyoming, you’re still on the clock,” South spoke through laughing.

Reggie sighed, obviously annoyed, and made the decision to walk away from the bar without further word to either of them and to a different wall to lean against. Thursdays were usually more relaxed than the true weekend, so he didn’t have a lot to do. Except for, apparently, dealing with dumb schoolgirls.

By the time he relocated, Washington had taken the stage. He didn’t glance up too much, though. He’d seen Wash dance a hundred times, and he was now self-conscious of watching the stage for too long.

Luckily, his shift was over about thirty minutes later. He quickly went to the back room after he made sure York and South saw him give a final glare. Damn children.

Since he never put stuff in his locker, he went to the office where he’d left his keys. It sounded like a good night to go drink enough to make himself fall asleep before 2 in the morning. He was thrilled at the prospect of dreamless sleep and the ability to sleep in until the late afternoon.

He closed the door to the office behind himself and very nearly ran into Connecticut, who appeared to have just left the main room, as she was wearing her brown lingerie and covered in a thin layer of sweat. He nodded to her in parting.

Now, he only needed to find Texas to get the all clear to leave. It was the polite thing to do, after all, and as he was reminded he could often be ‘painfully British’ due to his politeness. He would rather it to being rude.

“Ah, Allison,” he found her in her own office. “Anything else need to be done?”

She looked up from the papers she seemed to be filling out, and smiled a little bit. “No, you’re good, Wyoming. See ya’ tomorrow.”

“Cheers,” he nodded and closed her office door.

And now, time for drinking. Reggie smiled to himself. He very nearly ran over Florida in his haste to successfully connect the bottom of his jacket’s uncooperative zipper. “Ah, so sorry, there.” He looked up and saw Florida grinning. Now, what could he honestly be so damn chipper about? Reggie wasn't certain, but he dearly wanted to know.

“Not a bother at all, Reginald!” His cheerful voice only added to making Reggie remember South and York, and that with the added fact that he still didn’t have clothes on meant that Reginald felt quite abashed. “And don’t worry, by the way,” he leaned closer to Reggie’s face, making him painfully aware of the fact that the room felt warmer, and was he standing up straight or not? Florida still had that same, knowing gleam in his eyes, and his hand was lightly gripping Reggie’s arm. It appeared Florida was just barely standing on his toes in order to speak directly into Reggie’s ear. He spoke very softly, “I don’t mind if you watch.”

Before Reggie could even consider responding, he felt Florida kiss his cheek, just next to the moustache, hit him on the arse, and then he was gone. Wyoming had never been one to jump or to be slapped on the arse, and it startled him more than he would ever admit. In all likeliness, Florida had gone to the green room to change or maybe talk to more employees, but it seemed like he’d vanished on the spot.

Reginald was entirely gobsmacked. He glanced behind his shoulder, but he only saw the empty hallway. He wasn’t used to this-to not knowing what was going on. Nobody took his guard away that quickly, and it made no sense that someone he knew almost nothing about had done so with ease as quickly as Flowers had.

The zipper on his jacket finally connected, and he zipped it up, glanced down the hallway once more, and then headed home. It appeared he would be doing a lot of thinking before he fell asleep that night, so he assumed the alcohol would assist in the process. Maybe he could figure out the enigma of the man in blue, understand how he’d so quickly encompassed Reginald’s thoughts with the look in his eyes like he knew something and a small smile. Maybe he’d figure the man out.

Reggie always did love a challenge.


End file.
